


Set the tone

by aftereighteen



Category: Swimming RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Slow Build, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-19 21:38:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1485001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aftereighteen/pseuds/aftereighteen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Ryan and Michael meet as roommates at medical school (and nobody ever wanted to be a swimmer).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There is mention of previous character death. Olympic swimming has never been a thing for anyone, and absolutely none of this is real. Ellanna deserves a round of applause for helping me out with this.

Michael unlocks the door to his new apartment and is relieved to find it quiet and empty. He’d spent the past month regretting his decision to live with an unknown roommate, but had been informed by the housing service that there was no way to change his choice at this point – he’d have to deal with it. As he pulls his speakers out of the bag he’s carrying and sets them up on the table in the living room, he recalls why he’d initially thought that living with someone else was a good idea. Michael chose to live alone for the final year of his pre-med course and enjoyed it, but that had been down to being based in his hometown, lifetime friends and family nearby, and needing the option of solitude both to focus on his studies and have a break from the craziness that was his personal life.

When he’d been accepted to Stanford, he was painfully aware that it was the biggest move he had ever made and that a friend might be useful. That or he’d taken a blow to the head or been drunk. Maybe both. Either way, he was nervous now. In an attempt to shake off the nerves, he plugs his music into the speakers, sets it to shuffle and continues hauling in his belongings, taking advantage of having first pick of the two bedrooms.

Michael loses track of time as he unpacks his things and sets up his new home, and it’s not until he’s almost finished that he is interrupted. After a bit of fumbling on the outside, the apartment door swings open and Michael’s roommate is revealed. Michael tries not to stare – or eavesdrop, as the guy is on the phone – but curiosity gets the better of him. 

The roommate is strikingly tanned, and Michael’s brain tries to process the half-drawled accent as he continues to look the guy over. He’s wearing camouflage-print shorts – Michael didn’t know it was possible to purchase those in an adult size – and a crumpled t-shirt with a low v-neck, maximising the exposure of his bronzed skin. Michael’s about to try and get a better look at the guy’s face when he notices that the phone conversation seems to be winding up.

“Look, I’ve really gotta go, Mom,” the guy insists, “I’ve literally just walked into my new place, and there’s a roommate here whose name I don’t even know.” He glances up and flashes Michael a quick grin. Michael manages a weak smile in response, and is grateful to the guy’s mother for detaining him, as he knows he is now completely incapable of holding up his own end of a conversation thanks to that smile. “I just knew you’d panic until I’d let you know I’ve arrived, so that’s it: I’m here, I have a roommate who appears to be clean and sane, and I’m hungry and hoping he is too so that we can go out, get something to eat and learn each other’s names. Okay? I’ll call you soon.” There’s a pause, though the guy doesn’t look at Michael this time, preferring to step outside and quickly return hauling two bags with him. “I love you too. Bye, Mom.”

The guy hangs up and puts his phone down on the kitchen counter with a rueful shake of his head. “You’d think I was on that plane for several days rather than a few hours. I love her but... man, she worries.”

“It’s her job,” Michael shrugs by way of response.

“I... yeah. Oh dude, I’m sorry, I totally didn’t leave my manners in Florida,” the guy apologises, answering one question for Michael. He steps towards Michael, hand extended. “I’m Ryan,” there’s the smile again – open, easy and wide enough to make his blue eyes crinkle. 

“Michael,” he manages to reply, accepting Ryan’s shake and feeling the warmth of the other man’s hand radiate through his body.

“Nice to meet you, roomie,” Ryan grins. He glances around the apartment and seems to consider his bags quickly before making a decision. “Given that you’re stood right there, I’m pretty sure you heard I’m starving. Wanna head out to eat?”

“You don’t want to, like, unpack?” Michael asks.

Ryan laughs. “Dude, we live here, it’s not a long weekend vacation. Plenty of time to unpack at some point,” Ryan points out. 

*

An hour later, Michael and Ryan are installed in a booth at a lively bar near campus. They’ve ordered food, are half way through their second drinks and Ryan has declared that this could well become his second home. Michael’s worried that he could be in for a long year.

They aren’t the only newcomers in the bar: it’s noisy and busy, and Michael can tell that most of the patrons have done exactly what they have – arrived hungry and tired and located the nearest place which doesn’t cost the earth and looks like it’ll serve quickly. There are a few anxious parents accompanying their offspring, who are clearly desperate for their folks to leave them alone.

“So I’m guessing you’re a med student too?” Ryan asks.

Michael nods. “How did you know?”

“You didn’t choose our building because it’s closest to our part of campus?” Ryan smiles.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Good point,” Michael blushes.

“So do you know what you want to be?” Ryan continues. Michael knows it’s far from the last time he’ll get asked this question, and it’s also not the first time, but he’s definitely sick of it already.

“I’m not sure,” he shrugs noncommittally. “Just finishing med school seems a long way off when we technically haven’t even started yet...”

“You must have some idea,” Ryan pushes, “otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

Michael raises an eyebrow. “Of course I do. But you first.”

Ryan takes a pull on his beer and considers his answer. “I’m pretty open,” he replies, and Michael can tell he means it. “I just... well, it’s corny but I want to help people. So any way I can do that and push myself and earn a good living works for me. Plastic surgery’s where the money’s at, but I don’t know if I see myself re-arranging faces and shoving silicone into chests for the rest of my life. I like the option of having surgery be at least part of my job though, I think being a straight medic might drive me crazy. I love kids, so obstetrics or paeds, maybe? I don’t know. Your turn!”

Michael’s known since he was nine that he wanted to be a doctor, and when he was fifteen he decided exactly which type he wanted to be. But despite meticulously hitting each miniature target he has set himself on the journey to that goal so far, he still doubts himself. So he keeps his answer vague. “I mean,” he shrugs, “medicine’s a huge field. I kinda want to wait and work through my internship and figure it out then. I’m not so sure surgery’s for me, but I agree with you on the helping thing.”

Ryan finally seems satisfied with Michael’s response, and is conveniently distracted by the arrival of their food. He orders them both another drink and when the server returns with them, he raises his bottle. “Here’s to us setting the tone tonight. New roomies starting as we mean to go on: at the bar.”

Michael nods his agreement, clinks Ryan’s bottle with his own and takes a drink. It’s definitely going to be a long year.

*

Michael quickly discovered that having Ryan as a roommate could be like having no roommate at all. He knew back on their first night that Ryan was a highly social creature, as the other man had spent the evening successfully picking out other med students at the bar and introducing himself and Michael. He also had an uncanny knack of figuring out guys who shared his interests, and by the time they headed home, Ryan had befriended other students who were into football, basketball and surfing.

Emboldened by several beers, Michael had shared his confusion with Ryan on the walk home. Ryan laughed in response. “Don’t tell me you can’t pick your own type out of a crowd, Mike.”

“What d’you mean?” Michael remained confused.

“They’re sports guys, you can tell what they do by their bodies,” Ryan explained, with a hint of suggestion that Michael was either stupid or blind. He stopped abruptly facing Michael and holding him at arm’s length. “I mean, take you, for example.” Michael swayed a little and let Ryan hold him up as he assessed his body. “You’re... kinda freaky looking.”

“Thanks,” Michael pouted.

“No, like, that’s a good thing,” Ryan insisted, eyeballing him for a moment, before continuing to scrutinise Michael. “You’ve got a long body and really fucking long arms, it all makes your legs look short, but you have big feet too,” he paused then to waggle his eyebrows at Michael, something which Michael might’ve paid more attention to had he been sober. “And your shoulders are nicely muscled so... if I had to pin you at a sport, it’d be swimming. But my guess is that you actually don’t take any sport seriously, but you do somehow look after yourself. Right?”

Michael gaped for a second before remembering he had to nod. Ryan seemed to be waiting for Michael to speak, and he realised that he’s now expected to play the same game. Unfortunately, his observational skills only go as far as the fact that Ryan is deeply tanned, impeccably muscled and has hair which apparently sits perfectly all by itself and irrespective of any hint of humidity.

“You’re hot,” Michael blurted out.

Ryan burst out laughing and slung his arm around Michael’s shoulder, encouraging him to start walking again. “Thanks dude,” he grinned. “You’re funny. And as you’re so interested, I played football all the way through college on a decent scholarship, but basketball’s my favourite and half the reason I picked a school in California is so that I can keep surfing.”

“You’re not gonna play here?” Michael asked.

“I’d love to,” Ryan admitted, “but realistically, I won’t have time. I love to have fun, but I’m set on being a doctor, so I have to take that seriously. I don’t actually know how I got in here, but I know I’ll have to work harder than most of our class will to stay. And I don’t just mean in terms of the books.” He sighed. “My family doesn’t have a lot of money: I took a year out and worked four jobs to get here, and I’ll need at least one to make it through while I’m here. It’ll be worth it but... no sports team for me.”

Michael nodded and they walked in silence for a block before he picked the conversation back up. “I played golf and lacrosse. And I swam because my sisters did, but gave it up when I ran out of older kids to beat. Now I just run a bit and go to the gym sometimes. I always wanted to play basketball but I wasn’t cool enough.”

“What?” Ryan spluttered. “You’re plenty cool enough. Next time I need a stress bust, you’re coming to the court with me for some one on one. And in return, I’ll train with you so that you still have someone to beat. Sound good?”

“Perfect,” Michael agreed. “We’ll be hot doctors.”

The embarrassing memories of things he’d said under the influence prevented Michael from going out with Ryan again for a long time, but he didn’t stop himself from hanging out in the apartment when Ryan was around. Which wasn’t very often, given that Ryan stayed true to his own word and kept up his social activities as much as possible around classes and what ended up being two paid jobs. But when they were both there and weren’t sleeping, Michael and Ryan would study together – Michael knows that particular activity doesn’t really count as hanging out and bonding, but he lets himself have it – eat together and play video games.

But generally, they go to class together then don’t see each other until Ryan rolls home in the small hours of the morning, having played basketball or football or been surfing, followed by one of his two jobs. Michael will have spent the interim working out, studying and attempting to cook dinner, which Ryan hoovers up when he returns.

There’s a pause in the routine as the semester comes to a climax – Ryan’s determination to pass and become a doctor beats his delicate bank balance as they approach a week of exams – and Ryan’s suddenly around a lot more. He returns from class with Michael, and even visits the library with him once. They quiz each other, occasionally tossing out questions when they might not be expected: Ryan starts it at the gym one day when he’s spotting Michael, and Michael retaliates later on the couch during a gaming break (he swears to Ryan that it wasn’t a dirty attempt to win the game he was losing), but Ryan wins the day by bursting in on Michael mid-pee and posing an anatomy question.

Ryan hasn’t seen his friends for an entire weekend but they text him constantly wanting to know where the life and soul of the party has gone. The perpetual buzzing of Ryan’s phone drives Michael crazy during one particularly trying study session at their apartment and he’s about to tersely demand that Ryan switch his phone off or put it in another room when it bursts into life with an actual ring. In the four months they’ve known each other, Michael’s only known one person to call Ryan rather than text, and his patience is re-discovered.

Ryan’s, however, is gone. His head is resolutely down in his notes, gripping his pen harder as he attempts to tune out the ringing. “You gonna get that?” Michael asks as Ryan’s Mom shows no sign of giving up.

“Busy,” Ryan mutters, reaching out to swat the phone into silence.

“It wasn’t really a question,” Michael pushes.

“Dude, I’m sorry, it’s annoying me too, I’ll put it away,” Ryan groans, reaching for the phone and standing up.

“Just answer it, she clearly needs to talk to you.”

“She can wait,” Ryan shrugs. “I’m in the middle of something.”

“The books can wait,” Michael insists.

That gets Ryan’s attention. “Since when have you advocated talking over working? We’re not due a break for almost an hour.”

“It’s your Mom,” Michael replies simply. “That’s important.”

“It’s nothing that can’t wait until my break,” Ryan digs his heels in. “What’s gotten into you?”

Michael tries not to get angry, tries not to blame Ryan and tries not to let it get to him. But it already has. He scrabbles around for what he needs and stands up quickly, ready to retreat. “Because one day she won’t call,” he manages to get out before backing down the hall into his bedroom.

He doesn’t mean for the door to slam behind him, but he’s sort of grateful for the dramatic effect. Michael sits down at his desk but can’t seem to will himself to open his books again. Eventually, he hears Ryan start a conversation with his Mom and shut himself in his own room – closing the door carefully, Michael notes. Michael takes a few deep breaths, a little calmer thanks to Ryan giving in, and puts his headphones on to try and get himself back into a studying mode.

His own phone interrupts his bubble a while later, buzzing with an apologetic text from Ryan and a suggestion that they bring their break forward. Michael knows he can’t really ignore it, given that his roommate is actually only a few feet away and he reluctantly leaves his desk and heads back out to the kitchen. What he’s looking forward to less than Ryan’s inevitable apology – because he was, after all, brought up right – is the explanation he’ll now have to give for his own behaviour.

Michael finds Ryan in the living room, offering a bowl of chips and a bag of Skittles. “She’s, uh, excited to see me for Christmas,” Ryan offers, clearing his throat. “And she wanted to wish us both luck in our exams. So, good luck, from my Mom.”

“Tell her thanks,” Michael nods. “And thanks for, uh, doing that.”

Ryan sits on the couch waiting, and Michael paces the room twice before selecting the chair opposite Ryan and perching on it anxiously. He decides to go for broke and takes a deep breath.

“I lied,” Michael begins, “back on our first day when you asked what I wanted to be and I said I didn’t know, I lied.” He can’t bring himself to look at Ryan, because although none of this is new, it doesn’t hurt any less than it had when it first happened. “I want to be an E.R. doc, because I couldn’t save my own Mom, but I might save someone else’s.”

Once it’s out there, Michael realises that actually, he doesn’t need to say any more. Ryan won’t ask uncomfortable questions, he’ll take what he’s given and remember it and be considerate of it. But Michael thinks more of Ryan than the other vague acquaintances he’s made so far this semester, so he uses his story as a way of trying to communicate to his roommate that he’s the best friend he currently has.

“My Mom was a teacher. A Principal, in fact. I was fifteen when she...”

“Shit.” It’s more of a breath than an actual word, but it tells Michael more than a thousand words. It means that Ryan’s joined the dots and done the math, that Michael doesn’t have to find the words to explain, he won’t need to recount the story of his lacrosse game getting stopped, his coach sending him to the hospital – still in his uniform – with a teammate’s Mom, how he waited for his sisters to arrive, peering into the room where their Mom was being treated but not being told what was going on. Until the point when it all went still before his eyes, when the doctors stopped moving, the nurses put everything down and everyone walked away.

Michael’s never had to explain, the media did it for him. Everyone in the area knew, and his Mom was popular. Michael’s friends knew, his teachers were aware, his extended family rallied around and his sisters came home from college for good. Moving to California was the first time that he’d been away, and he’d carried his past around for four months like a secret.

All sorts of words and feelings swell up on Michael’s tongue and he tries to make something else come out. All that he manages is, “So...”

“Mike,” Ryan leans across the coffee table, reaching out and grabbing Michael’s hand. “I know now. I just... I’m sorry I didn’t figure it out. Of course I know who your Mom is. The whole country knows. I’m sorry I was insensitive.”

Michael shakes his head, unable to bring himself to make eye contact with Ryan when he’s still pretty concerned that he might actually cry. “You weren’t,” he manages. He lets another silence fall as he tries to figure out how to express himself without sounding like he’s preaching. He gets there quicker than he thought he might and finally makes eye contact with Ryan. “Your Mom knows you love her. But it hurts neither of you for you to show her that.”

Ryan nods, squeezes Michael’s hand and, for want of something to ease the mood, offers Michael the bowl of chips with his other hand. Michael forces a smile, takes a few chips and checks his watch. “Ten minutes of Halo then back to pharmacology?” he suggests.

“Done,” Ryan smiles.

*

The following few days are a total blur, right up to the point where Michael returns from a run the morning after the night they spent celebrating their freedom. He’s about to open the door to their apartment when it swings away from him, revealing Ryan engaging in a different physical activity. Michael recovers himself as quickly as possible, and clears his throat. He’d happily have slipped past, leaving Ryan and his new friend to do their thing, but the doorway to the apartment wasn’t built to accommodate two guys in a clinch plus one trying to creep past them.

The guy springs away from Ryan, attempting to pull off a coy look and Michael, clear-headed from his run and excited about winter break drops into sassy mode. “Mike,” he smiles broadly, offering his hand, “Ryan’s roommate.”

Michael retains his composure as Ryan watches in amusement. The guy awkwardly takes Michael’s hand but doesn’t offer his own name. “Have a good break,” Michael says, still holding the guy’s hand and manoeuvring himself into the apartment. “I’d love to stick around, but I really should shower. Maybe see you next semester?”

At that point, the guy bolts, Michael closes the door behind him and Ryan collapses laughing. “Dude,” Michael exhales, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me. Hope you weren’t trying to keep him sweet.”

Ryan gets himself together, turning on the coffee maker and shaking his head. “I wish you’d, like, hammered my door down an hour ago man, I’ve been trying to get rid of him.”

“Maybe we should have a code or something, so that you can just yell next time,” Michael suggests, downing most of the water in one go.

“How would that work when you’re out running off your hangover?” Ryan returns. He shakes his head. “You didn’t find someone to burn that energy off with last night then?”

Michael lets out a groan of his own. “If only,” he laments. “You’re not the only one who made a questionable decision last night.”

Ryan raises an eyebrow. “Oh really? Well aren’t you a dark horse. How did you get shot of your bad choice so fast?”

Michael opens his mouth to explain and thinks better of it, pausing to listen carefully. “Mike,” Ryan prompts. “Tell me your secret!”

Michael holds a finger to his lips, gesturing Ryan to be quiet, and creeps towards his own bedroom door. Ryan gapes in understanding, following him down the hall as Michael inches the door open and peers inside. He quickly retreats, closing the door as quietly as possible. “Shit,” he hisses.

Ryan claps his hands over his mouth to stifle a laugh. “Not funny!” Michael whispers. “What do I do?”

“You thought he’d just leave?” Ryan asks, wheezing with barely-contained laughter.

“More like hoped,” Michael moans quietly. He checks his watch. “I’ve been gone over an hour!”

“I still want your advice,” Ryan maintains. “I’m impressed that you got dressed and out the door without waking him. You didn’t drug him, did you?”

Michael shoots his roommate a death stare. “No... but there’s not a lot of the night I remember, and if he was as drunk as I was...”

Ryan shakes his head with a grin and offers Michael a high five, which is refused. “You can have one when we get him out of here without me having to touch him,” Michael promises.

“We?” Ryan laughs. “When did this become my problem?!”

“Uh, when I realised we both have to be at the airport in, like, two hours,” Michael reminds him.

Ryan grabs Michael’s wrist, checking his watch and nodding. “Got it,” he says. “Follow my lead.”

“What?”

“Just go with it,” Ryan insists. He clears his throat and Michael’s eyes widen. “Oh, wait,” Ryan changes his mind, jogging down the hall and disappearing into his room. He emerges a minute later fully clothed, shoes included. Michael gives him a quizzical look which Ryan ignores.

“What do you mean I can’t go in there?” Ryan asks loudly.

“Uh...” Michael stammers. 

Ryan rolls his eyes and continues shouting. “We’re going away on break, I’m sorry I left my phone charger here babe but I can’t be without it for a fortnight.”

“Uh...” Michael offers again.

“I know where I left it, it’ll only take a second, I’m not gonna make you late for your flight... unless you want me to,” Ryan’s tone changes at the end, and there’s definitely a flirtatious nature to it. Michael’s head is foggy and it’s not a hangover – whatever game Ryan’s playing has definitely got him confused.

When it’s clear that Michael is failing to catch on, Ryan hustles past him and bursts into Michael’s bedroom. It’s then that he realises that Ryan could probably turn his hand to acting if medical school doesn’t work for him: his roommate has hurried over to Michael’s desk and grabbed his phone charger, turning back towards him and holding it up triumphantly when he pretends to notice the now-awake guy in Michael’s bed for the first time and reacts in shock.

“Who’s this?!” Ryan thunders, pointing at the other guy.

“Uh...” Michael repeats, glad that his only syllable has been appropriate whenever dialogue has been required of him.

“Is this why you didn’t want me to come in here, so your _boyfriend_ ,” Ryan emphasises the last word heavily, “doesn’t meet your... bang?”

Michael’s frozen just inside the doorway as Ryan storms across the room and down the hall, slamming the apartment door behind himself. With Ryan out of the picture, Michael manages to offer a few words.

“You’d, uh, better go,” he tells the guy in his bed, who nods and scrambles around hunting for his clothes.

Unwilling to witness the awkward reverse striptease, Michael heads to the kitchen and hovers as he waits for the guy to emerge. A minute later, sweater inside out, carrying one shoe and wearing the other with his belt undone, the guy appears. He doesn’t stop to kiss Michael or ask for his number, just makes a beeline for the door and leaves. 

Michael blinks, wanting to pinch himself and check what just happened. It can’t be more than a minute later that the apartment door opens again, making Michael jump until he realises that it’s Ryan, who’s howling with laughter.

“Dude, you’d better have aced those exams because you can cross acting off your list of backup plans!”

Michael rolls his eyes and lightly punches Ryan’s arm. “Being your agent is now top of my backup plan list,” he informs his roommate. “You were scary good. You done that before?”

“Nah, it was all improv,” Ryan boasts. “Feel lucky: I thought about pulling the fire alarm, then I realised that would be more fun.”

Michael stares at him aghast. “If your ideas are like that...” he shakes his head. “Maybe run them past me next time?”

“What, so I can write you a script and give you time to learn your lines and we have a fucking rehearsal?” Ryan hoots. “Sure, Mike. Next time,” he winks, clapping Michael on the back and disappearing into the bathroom.

*

As they’re about to leave the apartment later, Ryan stops abruptly in the doorway. “Wallet? Keys? ID? Phone?” Michael prompts, assuming Ryan’s forgotten something important.

“You didn’t freak out,” Ryan replies.

“Uh... of course not. It’s not me who loses out if you go home without your phone,” Michael shrugs.

“Not that,” Ryan shakes his head. “Earlier, walking in on... uh...”

“You making out with a random guy?” Michael offers.

“Yeah,” Ryan nods. “That.”

“Should I have?” Michael asks, confused. “You’re an adult... oh wait, was he not? Should we have a conversation about checking IDs if you’re not sure?”

Ryan rolls his eyes and remembers that they’re supposed to be heading for the airport, starting to walk as well as talk. “I just... we’re different, you know? You’re all...” Michael waits for Ryan to fish around for an appropriate word, intrigued by what his roommate will come up with, “...introverted.”

“Uh,” that hadn’t been the word Michael had expected. “I guess. But anyone is compared to you.”

“Stop making this difficult.”

“I’m not. Did you assume I’d be offended by you bringing people back so you had a celibate semester?” Michael’s almost touched by the idea that Ryan considered his feelings in that way, but is also a little offended that he comes across as not only closeted and boring, but perhaps homophobic and prudish.

“Oh, dude. You think a lot of me, but I’m not that selfless,” Ryan responds. “I haven’t been celibate, but I have, uh, kept it out of our place.”

Michael rolls his eyes. “Thanks for sharing.”

“Real talk?” Ryan pauses at the kerb waiting for their cab. “I wasn’t sure how you’d react to my preferences.”

“And now?” Michael asks.

“Well... there was a guy in your bed too, so I’m gonna take a wild guess that it doesn’t exactly bother you.”

“Good guessing,” Michael affirms. Neither of them speaks for a few beats, but Michael feels an urge to clarify further. “Ry, I don’t care what you do and who you do it with. I’d be uh, unsettled, if it were like, every night. That’s not so cool. And a bit disturbing. But you’re a good guy, I mostly feel like I won the roommate lottery.”

Ryan smiles and Michael’s sure there’s a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “Thanks man. I like living with you too.”

Their cab arrives and they haul their stuff in before climbing in. “So, uh, maybe at the end of the year...” Ryan begins, sounding nervous for the first time since Michael’s known him.

Michael waits out Ryan’s pause, pretty certain of what he’s going to say, but wanting to hear it anyway. “Maybe we should, like, still be roommates?” Ryan finishes.

Michael turns to meet Ryan’s gaze and smiles at him. “I’d like that,” he confirms.


	2. Chapter 2

Michael worries that when they return after Christmas, the floodgates might open: Ryan now knows that although Michael is shy and “introverted”, he’s also no virgin who’s completely averse to fun. What actually happens is that Ryan starts to go out less. He still works two jobs and continues to be as involved as he can with his favourite sports groups, but he seems to stick to regular bedtimes and still doesn’t invite anyone to sleep over. Michael starts worrying for a different reason, but can’t bring himself to ask what might be wrong.

However, he eventually figures out a way around his inability to think of an appropriate question, an idea which will hopefully bring Ryan back out of himself a little without Michael needing to initiate a conversation he’ll undoubtedly find awkward. 

“So,” Michael fumbles, as they walk to class one day. He continues with a question in his head, but still can’t seem to make the words come out.

“Uh. Clue me in on what the game is?” Ryan prompts. “Is it word association day or...”

Michael blushes and shifts the weight of his bag to give himself a moment to think. “No, I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Go ahead,” Ryan encourages. They’ve almost arrived at their destination and he slows down to give Michael time to speak before they enter their class.

“It’s the Super Bowl next weekend and I, uh,” Michael swallows, still feeling uncertain, “thought maybe we could organise something? Like, have a few people round?”

Ryan takes a moment to process Michael’s suggestion and, for a horrible minute, Michael thinks his roommate will refuse. Instead, Ryan shrugs noncommittally. “I hadn’t realised, but yeah, that’s cool with me.”

Michael doesn’t hear Ryan’s acceptance within the general statement of his ambivalence towards the NFL’s crowning glory. “But... I thought you were into football?”

Ryan shrugs again. “I actually prefer college football. But yeah, we can have a Super Bowl party. As long as you’re not expecting me to construct one of those snack stadium things. I mean, if you’re volunteering to make it, I’ll eat it. But those things look like a ton of effort.”

“Well, shit, that’s totally what I was expecting. We can’t have a Super Bowl party without a Lochte-made snack stadium. What the hell am I going to do now?” Michael jokes.

Ryan grins. “Just have a Super Bowl Watching Session instead of a party?” Ryan suggests. Michael grins in response.

*

A little over a week later, their first guest is due to arrive and Michael’s having an introverted panic. He’s worried that someone they’ve invited might have told someone else who could have posted on Facebook about their small gathering and that it could get out of control. Michael consoles himself with the fact that he isn’t cool enough to have an out of control party, before remembering that Ryan _is_ cool enough, plus that the kind of parties which happen because someone tells the whole internet about them happen to people like him.

Panic has well and truly taken hold when Ryan pushes a cold beer into his hand, crowds into his space and encourages him to relax. “Mike,” Ryan soothes, “it’s a few friends coming over for food, beer and football. Nothing to stress out about.”

Michael nods, unconvinced by his roommate’s words and takes a pull on his beer. Ryan squeezes his shoulder and smiles before backing into the living room and fiddling with something on the TV table.

“What’s that?” Michael asks, eyebrow raised.

“It’s what’ll stop anything from getting awkward,” Ryan answers, pressing some tape down to attach a piece of paper to the table. “They’re the rules of the game.”

“But... you invited people who don’t know about football?”

Ryan laughs and brushes past Michael to answer the first knock at their door. “The drinking game,” he answers, opening the door and dropping smoothly into host-mode.

*

On his way back from a bathroom break a few hours later, Michael catches Ryan in the kitchen looking shifty. They stare each other down for a few moments before Ryan sighs in resignation and hands Michael a beer bottle.

Michael pushes it back towards him. “No way, you’ve done something to that.”

Ryan rolls his eyes and takes a drink from the bottle to demonstrate that it’s safe. “Happy?”

“Why didn’t you want it?” Michael asks, confused.

Ryan grabs an empty bottle from the counter, opens the fridge and glances back at the living room whilst pouring soda into the bottle. Michael’s eyes widen. “Just trying to make sure I go the distance,” Ryan shrugs, closing the fridge when he’s done and handing Michael the fresh bottle. “And the way my friend Mark from the surf club’s been looking at you, perhaps you should do the same.” He tips Michael a wink, takes two real beers and heads back to the couch.

Michael follows and seats himself in the only available seat remaining – conveniently, next to Mark – and settles back in to continue watching. Sure enough, now that he’s tuned into Mark’s body language, he realises he’s being flirted with. Michael glances over at Ryan, uncertain of the roommate and friend etiquette in this situation and, after a couple of attempts at making eye contact with Ryan, he gets an encouraging smile and wink from his roommate. Michael takes another close look at Mark: he’s cute, seems friendly, and Ryan wouldn’t have invited a total douchebag over, plus Michael hasn’t gotten any since his pre-break disaster, so he takes the opportunity to flirt back. 

And from there it all escalates pretty quickly. Before Michael really notices, the game is over, every single one of the other guests including Ryan – in fact, Michael realises dimly, they are herded by Ryan – leaves in search of another party or a bar, and Mark is the only one left. Michael’s about to ask Mark if he needs a drink when the other guy leans in and kisses him. Suddenly, it occurs to Michael that he wouldn’t be taking full advantage of the situation if he dragged Mark straight to his bedroom, and instead dives possibly a little too eagerly for his companion’s pants.

But Michael’s action seems to be appreciated when Mark comes in his hand a minute later, and Michael’s treated to a blowjob in return. Mark clarifies his intentions when Michael’s done by dragging him off the couch and through to the entryway of the apartment, pausing only to ask which is Michael’s room. Michael answers by kissing him firmly and hustling the other man down the hall, kicking the door closed behind them.

*

Michael wakes up alone and relieved the following morning. He’d enjoyed the night with Mark, but just before he’d fallen asleep, he had a minor panic about experiencing a replay of the night prior to winter break. Fortunately, he wouldn’t be knocking quietly on Ryan’s door to ask for help. Which is also good, he realises, because Ryan won’t be able to pull the aggrieved boyfriend trick on one of his own friends.

Incredibly, Michael’s not yet late for class, so heads straight for the bathroom and cleans himself up. Twenty minutes later, he’s dressed and ready to go when Ryan emerges from his room and offers him a grin.

“Good night?” Ryan asks, brushing past Michael to pour them a coffee each.

Michael nods and blushes a little, only just noticing that the apartment is spotless. “Dude, how long have you been awake? You didn’t have to clean up.”

“Thought I’d better be awake in case you needed my help,” Ryan teases, handing Michael his coffee. “Should’ve known that you’d be okay, seeing as I set you up this time.”

“Yeah, thanks for that,” Michael replies as they leave for class.

“You’re welcome,” Ryan claps him on the back. “Glad you could take advantage.”

Michael takes a sip of his coffee before asking the awkward question. “You’re not mad? It won’t be like, awkward for you? I mean, he’s your friend.”

Ryan shakes his head. “He’s not my type, but he had been whining a little about how he needed to get some. So I figured you’d be a good match.”

Michael rolls his eyes. “Very charitable of you, thanks.”

“No problem, happy to be of service.”

“I’ll, uh, let you know when I’m next in need,” Michael replies.

“Don’t leave it too long,” Ryan counsels. “Your game could do with some serious work, dude. I was worried about leaving you alone, I thought you might get rid of him once we all left and go to the library or something.”

“I’m not that hopeless!” Michael protests.

Ryan smiles fondly. “Yeah, maybe I’m exaggerating a little. But still. It was fun, right?”

Michael nods. “And nobody died? You aren’t going to fail any classes as a result. Fun is okay,” Ryan encourages.

Michael rolls his eyes. “Okay, I get it. I’ll come out with you sometimes. Hang in your shadow for the scraps you don’t want.”

“If you do, there’ll be none of that talk,” Ryan responds sternly. “You go big or go home if you’re with me.”

“Yes sir,” Michael groans, pushing the classroom door open and trying to get his brain out of sex and hangover mode and into study mode.

* 

Michael and Ryan continue to co-exist comfortably. The Super Bowl party had the desired effect for Michael – Ryan figures out a way of balancing his sociable side with his need to study, and together they smoothly navigate freshman year of medical school.

There is one slight hiccup, and it comes from so far out of left field for Michael that it takes him longer than strictly necessary to handle it. At first, he writes it off as Ryan needing to blow off some steam: he starts going out more and studying less again. It’s only when he sleeps in one Saturday rather than going to work that Michael realises something other than boredom is what’s got to Ryan.

Michael’s peering into the fridge in an attempt to conjure something edible using all of the food they don’t have when Ryan emerges from his bedroom.

“Hey,” Michael turns around to greet Ryan. “Day off work?”

“Yeah,” Ryan says distractedly as he makes to leave.

“Are you gonna be out for long? Because we need food in a pretty big way, it’s probably a two person job.”

“I’ll be out all day,” Ryan answers, opening the door.

“Oh, okay,” Michael shrugs. “Going somewhere nice?”

“Uh,” Ryan pauses in the doorway, “looking at apartments with a couple of football guys.”

Michael’s ears ring as he tries to take in what Ryan’s said. “You’re helping them look?” he asks hopefully, knowing the answer.

Ryan makes eye contact for the first time that morning and it’s also the first time that Michael’s ever seen him look hurt. “I’m looking with them,” he clarifies, “seeing as you started looking without me. Thanks for telling me, by the way.”

“I... what?!” Michael exclaims. “I know we haven’t talked about this for a while, but I thought we were getting a place together.”

“So did I,” Ryan nods. “Until...”

“Until when?” Michael panics. “When did I say that wasn’t happening?”

“Since I borrowed your computer and saw that you’d been looking at places to buy,” Ryan snaps.

“Yeah, for us to live in.”

Ryan just stares at him. “What? Are you crazy? Dude, you know I don’t have that money, and fuck knows how that’s something you can afford to be...”

Ryan stops, suddenly embarrassed and steps back into the apartment closing the door. He rubs a hand through his hair and exhales slowly. “Your Mom,” Ryan nods, without looking up. “Mike, I’m...”

Michael holds a hand up. “It’s okay,” he reassures. “I should’ve... like, mentioned it.”

“Well... yeah. Would’ve been good.”

“Can we... sit?” Michael asks, gesturing towards the living room.

Ryan follows him through and they sit, just as they had when Michael had first mentioned his Mom. Michael finds himself thinking that he should perhaps develop a better way of dealing with the whole thing, but realises it’s a bit late for the current situation.

“I can afford it,” he says quietly. “I don’t want to be that dick who has money, so I just... keep it quiet. My idea was that renting is a whole waste of money for us both. So I thought I’d buy somewhere for us to live. Then all we have to worry about is the bills. And yeah, I started looking, because we hadn’t talked about it and we’re sort of running out of time. But I wanted it to be somewhere we both like, I wasn’t going to buy anywhere without us both looking at it.”

Ryan shakes his head. “Mike, I’m happy to come with you, but I wouldn’t feel right making the decision for you. And I’m totally paying you rent.”

“I won’t take it,” Michael insists. “Put it in savings or spend it on shit you need. You’re my friend, I won’t take your money.”

“Yeah, I’m your friend,” Ryan agrees. “I’m not a freeloader.”

“I didn’t say you are,” Michael argues, “I’m just trying to help us both out. I can’t profit from you, that’s not fair. Just... please? If you’re set on looking, we can maybe even go out and do that today.”

A silence falls whilst Ryan thinks and Michael waits. A few painful minutes later, Ryan speaks up again. “Are you sure the grocery mission can wait?”

Michael punches Ryan’s leg. “Call your friends and tell them to carry on without you,” he scowls. “I’ll call the realtor and see what they’ve got.”

“Deal,” Ryan smiles. “But Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“We draw straws on the best bedroom,” Ryan conditions.

Michael snorts. “No way dude,” he laughs. “That’s just down to whoever’s fastest.”

*

Michael and Ryan steadily hone the balance of compromise in their friendship: Michael agrees to choose a property by himself on the condition that Ryan doesn’t even mention paying rent ever again; Ryan agrees to Michael paying for a cleaner by convincing Michael that they should do the decorating themselves – with a little help from their friends and a painting party; neither of them puts up a fight when it comes to Ryan’s insistence of sticking to his family’s Friday night pizza and wings tradition, whilst Michael receives no criticism for remaining on the sofa un-showered on Sundays during football season.

It works pretty beautifully in Michael’s opinion. It’s as relaxed or exciting as they choose for it to be on any given day: living on campus meant sticking to certain codes of conduct – and the all too frequent fire alarms at inappropriate hours – but having their own place as students gives them a huge amount of freedom, and Michael still regularly gives thanks that he and Ryan drew each other in the roommate lottery when they first arrived at med school.

Michael finds himself enjoying his experience immensely until one Friday evening in February when his roommate renders him almost physically sick with worry. Ryan disappears on an errand after class, which in itself doesn’t concern Michael. Until, that is, it’s gone 9pm, the pizza and chicken are on the table and there’s no sign of Ryan. He’s also not answering his phone.

In a moment of clarity, Michael recognises that it’s ridiculous to be panicking about a grown man being out alone on a Friday evening, but Ryan _never_ misses dinner on a Friday night, and if he’s going to be out or late any other night, he’s gotten well into the habit of telling Michael first or at least texting. Michael can’t decide who of Ryan’s enormous group of friends would be best to contact, or whether to get in his car and drive around looking for his roommate. But then Ryan might return and wonder where Michael was and why the food was waiting.

Michael’s train of thought leads to hours of pacing and uncertainty, until he hears keys rattle in the door sometime after midnight. Ryan enters the apartment quietly until he realises that all of the lights are still on and Michael’s waiting for him, sporting a confusing combination of his most powerful death stare whilst being as white as a sheet with concern.

“Shit,” Ryan groans. “I didn’t think you’d be worried.”

“It’s Friday night,” Michael points out, remarkably evenly.

Ryan nods and sighs. “I know, I’m sorry. But I’d just like to point out that I am an adult.”

“I know that,” Michael says through gritted teeth. “But it’s the one night you’re always home.”

“I should’ve texted you, I’m sorry. But I also didn’t think I’d be out this long, I honestly thought I’d be back for dinner.”

“What happened?” Michael asks, soothed slightly by Ryan’s apology and the fact that his roommate is alive and well.

Ryan blushes. “I, uh, went for coffee with someone. And it sort of turned into dinner.”

Michael processes Ryan’s answer and can only draw one conclusion. “A date?” he asks carefully.

Ryan nods. “You didn’t go home with him?” Michael isn’t sure why that’s a question, seeing as the answer is obvious. “And you haven’t, like, left him outside?”

Ryan smiles a little at that. “No,” he chuckles, “I, uh... it’s been a really long time since I’ve done this.”

“Well... I guessed. I don’t think I’ve ever...”

“Yeah, I know,” Ryan waves Michael’s comment out of the air and heads into the kitchen. “Can I snack while we do this? We didn’t go anywhere fancy but it wasn’t pizza and wings either. Which was just wrong.”

“If you’re gonna see this guy again, he’s gonna need some training,” Michael points out, following Ryan into the kitchen and presenting him with the food he’d had waiting earlier.

“I know,” Ryan laments. “But I think he’s trainable.”

Michael raises an eyebrow and waits. Ryan eats two wings and a slice of pizza before continuing, clearly hoping that Michael will give up. “I met him when I was working one night at the bar. He’s a lawyer, a little older, not so much the one night stand type, more of, uh...”

“Wow,” Michael wonders how much further this conversation can go before they can start considering themselves to be women. “You’re gonna see him again then?”

Ryan shrugs, feigning nonchalance as he inhales another slice of pizza. “We’ll see,” he finishes, wiping his hands off on a napkin. “It’s late, man. I’m gonna get some sleep so that I can hit the books tomorrow.”

He leaves Michael stood in the kitchen, feeling eerily as if everything may just have changed.

*

Sure enough, Ryan’s time gets divided further. Michael actually isn’t sure how his roommate manages to balance everything at first, and ultimately puts it down to Ryan’s determination to succeed as well as his passion for living life in his own way.

It’s a remarkably restrained start, but before the school year ends, Ryan is spending several nights each week with the guy who has become his boyfriend. When the relationship is still in the early stages, Michael and Ryan’s boyfriend are introduced, which Michael realises is another sign that things are serious – he and Ryan are used to bumping into random guys in the hallway of the apartment on the odd morning, exchanging knowing looks, but never names. Michael learns that Ryan’s boyfriend is called James and, obviously, lives in a smarter part of town than they do. James owns a dog – something which delights Ryan, whose family always had dogs when he was a kid – and appreciates decent wine – although he’ll happily order a beer at the clubhouse following a round of golf with business associates.

It’s all kind of terrifyingly grown up in Michael’s opinion, and becomes even more so over pizza and wings one night.

“I need to tell you something,” Ryan announces as they’re clearing up the boxes after dinner.

Michael decides against a flippant response, settling instead for a shrug and a, “Sure, go ahead.”

Ryan takes a deep breath, and speaks in a rush, “James asked me to move in with him.”

Michael blinks. “Oh,” is all he can manage.

“Mike, I’m so grateful to you for thinking of me when you bought this place, and I’ve had a ton of fun living with you... Please don’t think it’s that,” Ryan continues to speak in a hurry, as if he’s thought of a lot of things he wants to say and he’s worried that he’ll forget something or upset Michael. “But... I really like him. And you know how busy school is and all of my other stuff... it just means I can spend more time with him without having to fail classes or quit my job or stop seeing my friends.”

Michael nods, finally cutting in. “I get it,” he says quietly. “You don’t want to give any of the fun stuff up, so you chose to quit living with me.”

Ryan flinches. “You think this isn’t fun? Have you thought about how many hours we spend playing video games or watching shit on TV or taking basketball breaks?”

Michael shakes his head numbly and Ryan sighs into the pause. “I can help you audition for a new roommate,” Ryan offers. “Find you someone you won’t feel guilty taking rent from, who’s even better than me, who’ll...”

Michael holds his hand up. “It’s fine,” he says a little unconvincingly. “I’ll be okay by myself. Just... let me know when you’re leaving.”

Ryan hesitates, considering whether to drop it or push on. He chooses the latter. “I’m moving in three weeks,” he announces. “I want to be settled before the next school year starts.”

“Right,” Michael nods. “Three weeks it is.”

*

The following three weeks disappear quickly. Michael tries not to watch as Ryan steadily packs up his room in preparation for the move, but he’s forced to confront the issue when Ryan asks whether it’s okay to leave the furniture in his room for a while: “I don’t need it at James’s, and there’s nowhere to store it,” Ryan informs him. “If it’s in your way, just let me...”

“It’s fine,” Michael says with a wave of his hand. “Leave it as long as you want.” And, in order to avoid any more awkward conversations in the immediate future, he pulls his headphones down, puts on his sneakers and heads out for a run.

When he returns, Ryan’s in the living room, sorting through video games. Michael tries to sneak past quietly, but very little gets past Ryan and he calls out for Michael. “Can you come and give me a hand?”

Michael groans quietly and decides to grab two beers from the fridge, figuring he’ll need at least one of them for this. When he joins his roommate, he’s met with a stack of game and DVD boxes bigger than he knew their combined collection was. “Whoa,” Michael remarks, quickly handing Ryan the spare beer.

“Yeah,” Ryan echoes, taking a drink. “I hadn’t realised how jumbled up they all got in two years. I have no idea whose is whose.”

Michael shrugs. “Dude, from this many, I won’t notice if you get any of it wrong. Just... do your best. It’s whatever.”

“Okay,” Ryan says a little uneasily. “I, uh, went through my closet, which was surprisingly difficult apart from the random Orioles jersey I found...”

“I’ve been looking for that all season!” Michael exclaims.

“Sorry,” Ryan blushes. “It smells clean, but it was at the back of a drawer. I don’t even remember wearing it.”

“That’s because you were really drunk,” Michael points out. “It was our Halloween party, we dressed up as each other.”

“Right,” Ryan snaps his fingers, “which will explain where my Gators football jersey is.”

Michael takes a gulp of beer with a groan. “Shit. I mean, yes. But I have no idea where exactly it is.”

“It’s... actually not really that big of a deal,” Ryan points out. “I mean, I do want it back. Once I’m... gone... we’ll probably figure out exactly how much of our laundry got mixed up in the last two years, but it’s not a disaster. I’m, like, not moving far. And we’ll still see each other at class and, uh, hang out sometimes, right?”

Michael swallows. Since Ryan’s announcement, he’s been trying not to obsess about how little time they’ll spend together compared in particular to the few months they’d spent living in their current place prior to Ryan meeting James. But if he’s honest with himself, Michael’s spent a lot of time wondering who he’ll watch _Suits_ with – and whether he and Ryan will text about it from their respective couches – and who’ll recognise his “my brain is full and I need a break” face and drag him out for a quick game of one-on-one, followed by a venti – or large, as Ryan insists on calling it – caramel macchiato and a supportive all-nighter to make sure they pass the next test. Nobody else points out a whole month in advance that is sisters’ birthdays are approaching and drags him out to face the challenge of buying women gifts, or wingmans with the same positivity, or knows how to cheer him up when his football team doesn’t perform how he wants them to.

Ryan fits into Michael’s life in every single way that he needs him to, and soon he’s going to walk out of it. “Earth to Mike,” Ryan’s voice drifts into his thoughts. “Like, James works late sometimes so we can still hang out outside of class, right?”

Michael just nods and backs out of the room. “I’ll do my best to separate your clothes out. And I actually think I know where the jersey might be.”

“Cool, thanks man,” Ryan nods. Michael swears that the smile his roommate gives him is forced, and the tone of his words definitely isn’t as upbeat as the sentiment.

*

Ryan’s been gone for less than an hour when Michael decides he can bear the quiet and emptiness no longer. He makes himself presentable and heads to a new bar a few blocks away, intentionally picking somewhere which holds no memories of his former roommate. He doesn’t necessarily mean to pick someone up, Michael just wants to seek out noise and other human beings – something to put a stop to the relentless niggle in his gut which is trying to tell him that letting Ryan go will make a profound and irreversible difference to their relationship.

The bar provides more than the noise and the crowd that Michael sought, and offers him a small selection of new friends for the night. One makes it all the way to Michael’s bed, and even lasts through to the following morning, when Michael is roused by a soft kiss and a waft of coffee.

He stirs slowly, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “Is that sugar I can smell?” he mumbles. “Dude, we’ve lived together for how long? You know I don’t take it.”

As the face close to his shifts into focus, Michael acknowledges a frown, but not the one he’s expecting – although the body is wearing one of Ryan’s shirts... which Michael vaguely remembers removing from his own body the night before. “Who are you calling ‘dude’?” the girl asks.

Michael scrambles up quickly, almost knocking the girl and the coffee flying. “Do you want me to call you a cab?” he asks, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and reaching for his phone.

“No,” the girl answers, clearly wounded. She puts the mug down and starts grabbing her clothes off the floor. “I’ll see myself out,” she confirms, dressing as quickly as possible.

And before it really began, Michael’s post-Ryan party phase ends, giving way to his hermit phase. He carefully cultivates a scruffy beard; only puts on proper pants when he has to go to classes, preferring to spend all other waking hours alternating between basketball shorts, sweatpants and no pants at all; subsists mainly on junk food and uses his study breaks to figure out what he could use Ryan’s former bedroom as.

Having gone off his previous favourite idea of an exercise room, Michael’s trying to figure out if he can fit in a foosball table, dart board and a poker table one evening when there’s a knock at the door. Michael tries to ignore it but whoever it is persists and he gets up with a sigh to answer, hoping his beard scares the person off.

When he opens the door, the beard almost works. But Ryan’s made of stronger stuff. He rolls his eyes at Michael’s appearance. “I was about to talk myself out of this, but it was totally the right thing to do,” he announces.

Michael raises an eyebrow warily. Ryan clears his throat. “Can I, uh, come in?”

Michael turns around and heads back into the living room, leaving Ryan to follow. “Oh no, don’t you dare sit down,” Ryan calls out. “We’re not sticking around.”

“Says who?” Michael challenges.

“Says me,” Ryan insists. Michael turns to face him and Ryan hands him a carrier bag. “I got you something,” Ryan continues unnecessarily. “Something that you’re in serious need of. So use it, you’ve got thirty minutes to get ready, we’re going out.”

“I don’t...” Michael protests, but Ryan gives him a stern look.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Ryan offers. “I moved out, moved into this bubble and I’ve been a shitty friend. And this is lame, but I’m here because James is away at some fantastic conference in Costa Rica – which has made me totally determined to sell my soul to the first drug rep who offers me a trip to Hawaii once we qualify, by the way – and I didn’t want to sit in by myself and... well, dude, I’ve been seeing you at class and I knew this had to stop. So please,” he gestures to the bag Michael is holding, “take that and sort yourself out.”

Michael reluctantly heads to the bathroom and opens the bag to find a beard trimmer. He rolls his eyes at it before glancing up and catching sight of himself under the harsh light in the bathroom mirror. Ryan hadn’t gone as far as to say it, but his implication was right – Michael looks like shit. So he takes the trimmer out of the box with a sigh and sets to work.

*

Michael realises that night that Ryan seems genuinely happy. He also decides that, if he considers himself a good friend, he should be pleased for his former roommate and figure out a way to maintain their friendship, rather than feeling rejected or jealous.

He listens to Ryan’s news, they laugh and eat and drink, and end the night resolving to repeat the occasion soon. Michael even thanks Ryan for his criticism of his appearance, and promises to maintain a tidier beard and a better diet – Ryan had discovered far more takeout containers than he deemed acceptable whilst Michael was in the shower.

In the following weeks, Michael strikes a better balance in his life, without Ryan’s direct influence to moderate his behaviour. He keeps well on top of his studies, but also finds time to socialise, accepting invitations from the group of friends he and Ryan had previously played basketball with – and does so whether or not Ryan joins them – and returns to the bar he’d gone to on his first Ryan-less night, but with a healthier mindset.

The place is better than he remembered, and Michael becomes something of a regular, joining a small group of people his age who are other post-grads or negotiating fledgling careers. There’s even a night when it’s just him and a girl from the group, a situation which remarkably lacks awkwardness, to the point where Michael finds himself asking her out on a date without even realising it’s happened.

In fact, their first date is soon followed by a second, but that seems to be where Michael’s luck runs out. He ignores the text he gets from Ryan as he and his date are seated, quickly stowing his phone in his pocket and smiling across the table at the girl. It’s a decision he regrets, as his phone vibrates almost constantly in his pocket throughout dinner, and he’s only able to pull it out and turn it off altogether when his date excuses herself before dessert. 

Michael writes the twelve missed calls from Ryan off as the other man being bored and looking for someone who he’d assume wouldn’t have plans in the evening, and resolves to throw him a text in the morning to apologise and blame a dead battery. However, the chances of Ryan getting an early morning text are dramatically decreased when it becomes clear that Michael won’t be going home alone. Although when they round the corner of his block and Michael spots Ryan sitting on the steps outside his apartment, he wishes he’d replied to Ryan’s message.

When Michael reflects on the incident later, he wonders whether any of the neighbours were watching in amusement, and whose face made the most interesting picture: Ryan’s look of shock at seeing Michael with a female date; Michael’s date upon realising that there was a distressed man outside her date’s apartment; or Michael’s, for trying to figure out if there’s any way an upset friend late at night can be persuaded to leave so that he can still get some.

The answers are quickly revealed: Michael’s date makes her excuses and heads home – despite Michael taking her aside and making a rushed attempt to reassure her. He isn’t helped by Ryan butting in, apologising profusely for not realising Michael was busy – Michael makes the mistake at that point of barking at Ryan that he’s aware he’s not the greatest friend, but that he’d hoped Ryan would realise there was a good reason for Michael not answering any of his calls – and trying with an epic amount of failure to smooth talk the girl into Michael’s bed for him. All of which leaves Michael stood in the street facing a tear-stained and shivering Ryan, who he notices is in just a t-shirt on a cool March night.

“How long have you been here?” Michael asks quietly.

Ryan swallows before answering. “Since I first called you. I really am sorry, Mike, I just... didn’t think. And didn’t know where else to go.”

Michael rolls his eyes and climbs the steps, unlocking the front door. “You lose the numbers for all of your other million friends, or just assume that I’d be the loser without plans?”

“I... no, not even,” Ryan protests. “You were... I... they wouldn’t get it.”

Michael laughs. “I don’t either! How about you try actually explaining?”

“I walked out.”

“Yeah, without so much as a sweater, why would y...” The penny drops then, and Michael trails off, recognising the stupidity of his question. “It’s over?”

Ryan nods, Michael holds the door to the apartment open and waits for Ryan to step inside. He flicks the lights on and gestures to Ryan’s room. “It’s all still there,” Michael says quietly. “Stay as long as you want. Knock if you need anything, Ry.”

*

Ryan spends the weekend in his room. Michael’s about to knock to make sure he’s still in there and alive when a one-sided but very loud conversation begins to emanate from it. Michael winces as insults are flung and the noise becomes increasingly emotional. At the first hint of Ryan’s voice breaking on a sob, Michael bursts in, grabs the phone from Ryan’s hand and explains that his things will be collected by the end of the following day whilst James is out at work, before hanging up abruptly.

He expects a furious reaction from Ryan, but his friend just sinks numbly onto the bed, and mutters a, “Thanks,” in response.

Michael reaches out and squeezes Ryan’s shoulder sympathetically. “No problem,” he insists. “And I meant it. We skip class tomorrow, clear out and then it’s done.”

Ryan nods his understanding. “Stay as long as you want,” Michael offers. “On one condition.”

Ryan looks up, and Michael’s resolve wavers when he sees the genuine sadness in his friend’s eyes. But his instincts tell him to persist, so he pushes on: “You get out here and help me eat some pizza.”

“Done,” Ryan even manages the weakest smile Michael’s ever seen him give. But it gives him more hope than he’s ever had.

*

Crushingly, Michael’s hope is in vain. As abruptly as he’d moved back in, Ryan leaves again. Two weeks after Ryan arrived – just when Michael starts to think that he might decide to stay – Michael returns from the library to find bags in the hallway. Ryan emerges from his bedroom a moment later looking guilty.

“It’s, uh, all happened pretty quickly,” Ryan offers quietly. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to give you more...”

He’s interrupted by the doorbell. “That’ll be the pizza,” Ryan says. “I thought we could...”

Michael nods, digging out his wallet and opening the door. Ryan darts in to pay the guy first, hands Michael the pizzas and steps back inside. Michael goes through to the living room, sets the boxes up on the coffee table and eats a slice of pizza before asking the question he’s dreading hearing the answer to.

“Where are you going?”

“Well... you know how one of the guys in our class dropped out a couple of weeks ago?” Michael nods. Ryan shrugs, “His roommates needed a replacement still, so I’m moving in there tomorrow. And, uh, if it’s okay with you...”

Michael looks at him expectantly, but Ryan still doesn’t finish his sentence. “Of course it’s okay with me,” Michael lies. “It’s been great to have you back, I wouldn’t mind if you stayed. I mean, I’m sorry for the circumstances...”

Ryan waves Michael’s comment off. “It’s okay, I’m doing better with... all of that.” He pauses, knowing he still has to say what he was initially thinking about. “I’m taking my furniture this time, if that’s alright. Like, the other guy’s quit and they furnished their place, so there’s space for me but, like, no bed.”

Michael nods. “Well, it’s your stuff so...”

“It won’t put you out?”

“Why would it? You were sleeping in it anyway, it’s not like I have guests come and stay, just because you weren’t here,” Michael realises he’s starting to sound like a sulky kid and checks himself. “It’s cool.”

“And it’s not that I don’t like living with you,” Ryan explains hurriedly. “I’m doing it to help the other guys out, they really need someone to be paying rent and it just... seemed right.”

Michael forces a smile. “It’s your choice, Ry. As long as you’re happy, then we’re cool.”

“Thanks, man,” Ryan smiles back with relief. “And I definitely owe you one after the last couple of weeks.” 

“Nah,” Michael replies. “What are friends for?”

Ryan raises his beer bottle. “To another year of classes and pizza,” he decides.

“I’ll drink to that,” Michael agrees, touching his bottle to Ryan’s and taking a drink.

*

Sure enough, there is more pizza. But it’s definitely outweighed by classes, exams, assessments and hospital rotations. Michael spends most of his final year willing it to end, so that he can be freed from the hell of constant studying, but during the final weeks as they inch closer to graduation, he regrets wishing his life away, now worrying more about his internship: everything from where it will be to how he’ll survive the long shifts and the responsibility of actually being a doctor.

Of course, it’s far too late to turn back, and before he knows it, he’s stood between his sisters wearing a cap and gown at his graduation. There are lots of ridiculous pictures taken involving stethoscopes and lab coats, and Michael finds that he doesn’t actually mind as, by some great co-incidence, Ryan is beside him in every single one.

They’ve had their final pizza, wings and beer night, though. Michael’s apartment is packed up and sold, and a new one is waiting for him in Baltimore. He’s pleased that he managed to match at the prestigious programme in his hometown’s largest hospital, and isn’t surprised that Ryan has opted to stay on the west coast, continuing to soak up the sunshine as much as the career progression.

Ryan throws his head back, laughing in the afternoon sun at a joke his Dad has made. He flings an arm around Michael’s shoulders and pulls him in for one last picture. “Thanks for being a good friend, Mike,” he murmurs as the shutters click in front of them.

Michael swallows. “You too. I know I wasn’t the easiest guy to get to know.”

The cameras are withdrawn and the crowd starts to thin out, people drifting away around them. Ryan looks straight at Michael, considering him for a moment. “Try and make it easier for people more often,” he suggests. “You’re a good guy, people will realise that when you give them a chance.”

Michael nods and Ryan smiles gently, pulling him in for a backslapping hug. “Congrats, Doctor Phelps. Good luck.”

Michael smiles into Ryan’s shoulder. “Take care of yourself, Doctor Lochte."


	3. Chapter 3

Michael quickly gets lost in life as a junior doctor. Once he’s back in Baltimore, the familiar buildings, streets and climate around him, he’s reminded of what he’s aiming for. In many ways, medical school seems like it was a vacation or a dream – a series of vivid and pleasant memories, but an experience which now resides for the most part in a locked box in his head.

Occasionally, the box gets pushed off the shelf it sits on and falls open, allowing something to spill out. One of the first times it happens, Michael’s on a night shift in the ER during his intern year. It’s a quiet night and Michael’s Attending is asleep when a father runs in screaming, carrying his child, who is completely floppy. Later, Michael’s pleased with how quickly he sprung into action, instructing a nurse to go and wake the senior doctor up, whilst he and another member of staff rush the child to resus.

As Michael begins assessing the patient, one of the other doctors on shift arrives and tries to take over, but Michael continues confidently – he recognises the situation instantly, thanks to a sudden flashback of a frustrating study session with Ryan. Michael had struggled with the details of this kind of condition, but together they’d worked through it and, as a result, it was one he’d never forget. Michael’s colleague is unconvinced, still trying to take control when the senior doctor arrives a minute later. Michael quickly presents his thoughts, the Attending takes one look at the patient and agrees, and finally the other doctor gets on board, the team now working together to help the child.

Michael means to text Ryan when he finishes work in the morning, but he’s functioning on little sleep and passes out as soon as he arrives home. Eerily, when he wakes up mid-afternoon, there’s a message from Ryan with a picture attached: it’s Super Bowl day, and the staff in his department had been tasked with bringing a snack each in order to construct a magnificent stadium display. Michael smiles fondly and texts back that he’s thinking of Ryan too, though due to the case. Ryan’s response is quick, and complimentary. “Nice work,” the message reads, “good thing you had a great study buddy.”

Michael heads back to the hospital for his next shift with a smile on his face, but soon boxes memories of Ryan off again in favour of focusing on his work. 

*

It’s a few months before they’re in touch again, with Ryan initiating again. “Got something to tell you...” is the message accompanying a picture of a beaming Ryan cradling a newborn baby.

Michael doesn’t reply straight away, waiting until he has an appropriate response a few hours later having checked up on his newest patients. “Me too,” he replies, attaching a photo of himself somewhat awkwardly cradling a pair of week-old twins he helped to deliver. “I’m guessing like me you delivered rather than fathered?”

“Wasn’t supposed to,” Ryan’s reply comes quickly. “I’m in Ortho, no babies there.”

“Don’t keep me in suspense!!!!!!” Michael demands.

“It’s my nephew :D,” Ryan informs him. “Born early, was home for a visit.”

“Congrats,” Michael replies. “I’m excited to leave OB – preemies still freak me out.”

The conversation grinds to a halt again and Michael continues to rotate through the hospital. When he finds out that he got the Residency he wanted and will be back in the ER permanently, Michael picks up the phone and dials without thinking.

“Hey Mike,” Ryan answers brightly. “What’s up?”

Michael pauses, and for the first time thinks about how he reacted, how this call should maybe be to someone else. But how it had, after all this time apart, felt like the most natural thing in the world to call Ryan. Not one of his sisters, or another member of his family. Or the guy he’s been half-heartedly seeing, but his former roommate who he hasn’t seen in over a year and barely hears from.

“Uh,” Michael stumbles. “I’m an ER Resident.”

“Dude,” Michael can hear the grin in Ryan’s voice, and knows he’d be reaching for a high five if they were in the same room. “That’s great news, you must be thrilled.”

“I am,” Michael nods, swallowing. “What about you?” he asks after a pause.

“Me too, actually,” Ryan answers. “I surprised myself. I loved most of my rotations, but it was the ER which really grabbed me so... we’re on the same path again.”

“Yeah,” Michael agrees. “You found a rep who’ll fund that Hawaii trip yet?”

“Getting there,” Ryan laughs. “You can expect a call when I need a plus one.”

“I’ll look forward to it, but maybe won’t hold my breath,” Michael smiles.

“When have I let you down?” Ryan asks. He pauses before continuing. “But I’ve, uh, gotta go. It was good to hear from you. Don’t be a stranger, Doctor Phelps.”

“I won’t,” Michael promises. “See you around, Doctor Lochte.”

*

Before Michael realises what’s happened, it’s October. The first few months of his Residency have been hectic – he had been so excited about getting the job he wanted that he hadn’t considered how much of a step up it would be from interning, but also how much it would be a realisation that he still has a long way to go.

Weekday mornings aren’t normally busy in the ER, but things go a little crazy one day, which leads to Michael reading text messages whilst peeing. Surprisingly, there’s one from Ryan.

“Gotta say, thought working today would suck,” Ryan messages. “But it actually doesn’t!”

“Your E.R. okayed costumes too, then?” Michael replies, smiling to himself. Ryan’s transparent, and Michael’s glad to see that his former roommate is approaching his career just as he does everything else – with a sense of fun and adventure.

“Dude, yours too? I wanna see your costume!” Ryan responds quickly.

Michael quickly snaps two pictures of himself – wincing a little at the fact that he’s become that person who takes selfies in the bathroom – and sends Ryan the picture which just shows his face, clean shaven for a change and with added fake hipster glasses.

“Shoulda known you’d start stealing my look,” Ryan replies, attaching a picture. Michael opens it and laughs: Ryan is also wearing hipster glasses, and he’s gone the extra mile by uncharacteristically side parting his hair and slicking it down.

“Who’s your alter ego?” Michael asks.

“You first,” Ryan insists.

Michael obliges, sending Ryan his other picture.

“Spidey,” Ryan responds to Michael’s message. “Should’ve guessed.” He sends back another picture of himself and Michael rolls his eyes.

“Superman,” Michael replies. “Predictable, Lochte.”

“Could be worse,” Ryan points out, “we could’ve walked into the same department in matching outfits. People would talk, MP.”

“Gotta go and let my work do the talking,” Michael ends the conversation. “Glad you’re having fun.”

“I get it: you’ve got a line of patients waiting to be healed by an upside down kiss,” Ryan jokes.

“If only it were that easy,” Michael laments, pocketing his phone and heading back to work.

*

Michael and Ryan exchange texts on several occasions following Halloween, but all of them are seasonal greetings rather than anything particularly exciting or spontaneous. Michael isn’t sure why he finds it so hard to stay in touch with someone who he knows is fun, kind and a positive influence on his life. Whilst he hasn’t directly replaced Ryan with a roommate or an especially close friend, he does seem to be making more of a life for himself in Baltimore.

Some of Michael’s childhood friends are still based in the city and as a group they reconnect easily. He’s also become friendly with some of the other doctors in his own department and beyond – either from rotations during his internship or bonding over shared frustrations at the variety of broken snack machines throughout the hospital. Michael realises that it’s easy with other doctors: they understand where he’s at, why sometimes he needs to talk and sometimes he just needs a beer; breaking confidentiality to offload about certain cases also doesn’t seem such a big deal when you’re talking to someone who may well be the patient’s doctor at some point too.

He’s just about to leave the hospital to meet a fellow doctor for a drink one evening when he gets a text from Ryan. There’s a picture of his former roommate surrounded by nurses, shrugging and pulling a goofy expression and captioned, “At least the nurses love me”. Michael smiles and means to reply and ask about the significance of the message when he bumps into the person he’s meeting, and all thoughts of Ryan are forgotten in favour of the person in front of him.

The conversation with Ryan slides further down Michael’s inbox again, and his mind is firmly on other things until, on one particularly grey Baltimore morning he gets another picture message. This time Ryan’s posing shirtless on a beach in a pair of horribly obnoxious shorts. Incredibly, none of that draws his attention.

Michael texts back, “You went to Hawaii without me? And took the Ravens cap I lost years ago?!?!”

“No and no. But I’m in FL for a break and found the cap,” Ryan replies quickly.

“How’d it get to Florida?!” Michael wants to know.

“On my brother’s head after he visited us one time. Sorry dude,” Ryan apologises.

“I see. He sending it back?” Michael asks.

“It doesn’t suit me?” Ryan replies.

All thoughts of where he’s supposed to be going are forgotten when Michael gets that message. He remembers perfectly well what Ryan looks like on the beach in his hat, but scrolls back up and enlarges the picture anyway, allowing himself to peer closely at his friend’s tanned chest and easy smile. Michael’s stomach lurches and he lets out an involuntary sigh, before being brought back to earth by a throat being cleared in front of him.

Michael snaps his head up to greet the person, quickly pocketing his phone and trying to forget about Ryan. It’s the first time in a long time that he’s had to make an effort to get Ryan out of his mind.

*

As he progresses through the second year of his Residency, Michael finds his life becoming more serious. He finally manages to get the dog he’s been craving for years, takes on more responsibility at work, and without really meaning to finds himself in a relationship. 

Life becomes a challenging balance: Michael wants to continue fostering the relationships he’s built within his group of friends – he’s come to realise that there’s a huge benefit to having this network in his life – but he finds himself under increasing pressure to prioritise his romantic relationship above all others. The situation reaches an almost crisis point one morning when an argument which has been brewing regarding Michael’s refusal to live with his girlfriend comes to a head on his day off as she’s about to leave for work.

Frustrated that she chose a horrible moment to start the fight, Michael finds himself unable to settle into the main task for his day off – which is actually work, preparing for a presentation he’s due to give at a conference – and takes off on a run, something he hasn’t done in a long time. As he charges along the pavement around the harbour, Michael tries to empty his head and calm down, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other and breathing and allowing the music in his ears to ebb through him... until it’s broken by his phone ringing.

He answers without thinking, angry with whoever has chosen to inadvertently interrupt him. “What?” Michael growls.

“Ouch,” Ryan sounds taken aback.

Michael stops abruptly in the middle of the pavement, breathing hard. “Ryan?”

“Yeah,” Ryan replies hesitantly. “You okay, man?”

Michael shakes his head and barks out a laugh. “I’m running.”

“Uhoh,” Ryan groans. “Who pissed on your Wheaties?”

“I wish that’s what happened,” Michael laments.

“Wow,” Ryan sounds startled. “Too many altered old ladies groping you this week or something? I’m a little sick of them just grabbing at my dick because they can get away with it. I started wearing scrubs all the time to try and confuse them but it actually seems to have made it worse.”

Michael laughs. “Dude, you should know how women feel about men in uniform.”

“How should I know that?” Ryan asks. “My knowledge of what women find attractive is very limited.”

“Might be worth you taking a class or something?”

“Okay, before this gets weirder, I just want to stop you and let you know that I’m a little sad this isn’t the strangest conversation I’ve had today, and it’s totally not why I called,” Ryan tries to change the subject.

“Alright, well I don’t think I want to know what’s weirder than this, but I do want to know why you called,” Michael offers, shifting in his spot to stretch whilst they talk.

“Well, I was just planning my visit to the Emergency Medicine conference and just thought I should let you know that I’ve already identified what is clearly going to be the most exciting of the poster presentations,” Ryan reports.

Michael breaks into a grin. “You’re going to be there?”

“Yes, dude! Totally coming to bust your balls about your presentation,” Michael can hear the smile in Ryan’s voice.

Michael groans, “No, my boss is coming, please be nice!”

“I will on one condition,” Ryan offers. “No, two conditions.”

“Okay...” Michael answers warily.

“First, you come to my presentation, ask an easy but insightful question and clap loudly at the end,” Ryan tells him.

“You’re presenting a talk?” Michael asks instead.

“I...” Ryan stumbles, and Michael wishes he could see his face to confirm the suspicion that Ryan’s blushing. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting it. We submitted for a poster, got offered an oral, I assumed my boss would take it and then he asked me to do it. So... flattered but... busy and a little stressed out.”

“That’s awesome,” Michael finds it in himself to say, now relieved that they’re on the phone so that Ryan hopefully doesn’t detect the hint of jealousy in his expression. “What’s the other condition?”

“Well I’d have thought that one’s obvious, seeing as the conference is where it is,” Ryan tells him. “Sounds like you could do with some Ryan time.”

Michael sighs and rolls his eyes. “Actually, yes.”

“You didn’t take my advice then?”

“Which bit?”

“Giving people a chance. Making friends. Not being a hermit,” Ryan lists.

“Oh no, I did that. And it’s... mostly good,” Michael admits, not wanting to give too much away.

“Okay,” Ryan responds. “Well I’m glad I had a little warning. I was hoping we’d be able to team up to find ourselves some real prospects but... whatever you need.”

There’s a pause in the conversation and Michael crosses the street, heading for home. “I’d better go, Mike,” Ryan eventually cuts in. “It’ll be great to see you.”

“Looking forward to it,” Michael agrees. “Good luck with prepping your presentation. Let me know what you want me to ask.”

Ryan laughs. “I wasn’t...”

“Dude. I’m serious. Send me a question,” Michael pushes.

Ryan pauses before agreeing. “Thanks, Mike,” he says warmly. “A friendly face will be good for both of us.”

*

Two weeks later, Michael flies to San Francisco with his boss, clutching his poster tube protectively and feeling worryingly like a kid travelling to present at the school science fair. The conference is a big deal: three days of physicians from throughout the country – and a few who fly in from other places – which is held annually in the city. Ryan’s presentation is during the afternoon of the first day, but Michael doesn’t present until the second day. He’s tempted to write that fact on his hand, so that he doesn’t allow himself to get carried away catching up with Ryan in the evening, and spends the flight looking over his notes and setting alarms to make sure he doesn’t miss his slot.

Michael and his boss register at the conference. Michael’s anxious to try and find Ryan – now that they’ve arrived, Michael’s keen to see his friend and catch up. On a couple of occasions as his boss leads the way through the venue, Michael thinks he catches a glimpse of Ryan through the crowd and his stomach jerks at the idea. Michael is introduced to a different person every few metres – his boss has been an ER physician for a long time and seems to know pretty much everyone at the conference. Michael half-heartedly tries to remember names and faces, but finds himself checking his watch regularly, keen to get a good seat for Ryan’s talk.

Eventually he is freed from his boss’s side and Michael makes a beeline for the room Ryan’s presenting in. He’s shocked at the size of it – the room could easily accommodate a thousand people, though he’d thought it would be much smaller. Michael takes a seat near the front and flips through his programme to find Ryan’s abstract and re-read it prior to the presentation.

A buzz builds in the auditorium, seats beginning to fill. Michael moves his bag off the seat next to him as he senses the room becoming busier, and only a minute later someone takes the seat. Michael doesn’t look up until the person next to him clears their throat pointedly, and when he lifts his gaze, his eyes meet Ryan’s for the first time in two years.

Michael finds himself grinning instantly, and Ryan pulls him into a warm hug. “Careful, don’t wrinkle your suit!” Michael laughs.

“Don’t remind me,” Ryan mumbles into Michael’s neck. “I’m so nervous dude, fuck. This is, like, the biggest room and it’s fucking full. Since when does everyone turn up on the first day of these things?”

“Did we miss the memo about free drinks or something?” Michael jokes.

“Well that’s the benefit of having a poster,” Ryan points out as they remember to break their hug. “They serve drinks, so you can entertain yourself by getting a little buzzed if you have nobody to talk to. I have to stand up and do this stone cold.”

“You’ll be fine,” Michael reassures him. “It’s interesting work. You know your stuff, right?”

Ryan shrugs. “I guess so.”

“Your boss wouldn’t have let you do it if he didn’t think you could,” Michael reminds him.

Ryan nods. “I’d better go,” he says, reaching over and squeezing Michael’s leg. “Thanks for being here.”

“No problem,” Michael says, distracted by Ryan’s warm hand on his knee. “I’ll, uh, see you after?”

“Absolutely,” Ryan grins. “I owe you a beer for that question.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Michael replies.

Ryan gets up, straightens his jacket and flashes Michael a smile before heading to the front of the room to give his presentation.

*

The hotel bar is crowded when Michael arrives, and it takes him a minute of scanning the room to spot Ryan waving at him from the packed bar. Michael’s changed into jeans and a plaid button down, but Ryan’s still in his suit, though he’s discarded his tie and opened the top buttons of his shirt. Michael isn’t sure why he’s bothering to take note of his former roommate’s outfit, but he adds “Ryan looks good” to the list of thoughts as he weaves through the room to join the other man at the bar.

“I was worried you’d had a better offer,” Ryan jokes as Michael slides onto the bar stool beside him.

“Sorry,” Michael apologises. “I didn’t think you’d be early, so I checked in and showered.”

“You’re staying here too?” Ryan asks, pushing a beer towards Michael, who takes it gladly.

He nods as he takes a sip of his drink. “My boss picked it, seems like most people are here.”

“Yeah, it does seem to go that way at these things,” Ryan notes. “I find it a bit creepy and, uh, kinda inbred sometimes.”

Michael raises an eyebrow. “Conference hook-ups becoming your thing, are they?”

The bar’s dimly lit, but Michael knows Ryan well enough to realise that he’s blushing a little. “Eh, there was this one time... I’m trying not to make a habit of it.” 

“Well, then I’ll be a good friend and do my best to make sure it doesn’t happen tonight,” Michael offers.

Ryan laughs. “Thanks, buddy. I knew I could rely on you to repel people.”

“I’m going to ignore that and ask you how you’re doing instead,” Michael sulks.

“Good,” Ryan smiles. “Work’s good, actually. My boss is really pushing me, which I probably needed. I live with a couple of guys I interned with, it’s fun, but I sometimes wonder if I should grow up and stop having roommates.”

Michael shakes his head. “You wouldn’t be the Ryan I know and love if you lived alone,” Michael asserts.

“Probably not,” Ryan grins. “None of them are like you though, Mike.”

“They don’t need to pretend you to be their boyfriend in order to get rid of a misjudged sleepover?”

Ryan laughs, clapping Michael on the back. “No, that was just you. And we seem to all keep hold of our own clothes, I manage to only wear my own socks and hoodies these days.”

“Ah, well you have grown up a little then,” Michael smiles.

“Just a bit,” Ryan agrees. “So tell me, how are things at your end? I’ve gotta admit, things sounded a little bleak on the phone the other week.”

Michael swirls his beer in his glass, looking down at it as he considers his answer. “You, uh, caught me at a bad time.”

He can hear Ryan raise an eyebrow next to him, and sees Ryan signal to the barman for another couple of drinks out of the corner of his eye. Ryan stays quiet for a change though, waiting for Michael to continue. He drains the rest of his beer before speaking.

“My work’s good too,” Michael says eventually. “And I have a good group of friends – some I’ve known forever and some from the hospital.”

“But?” Ryan prompts, reaching for his new drink when it’s placed in front of him.

Michael sighs. “I don’t know. There’s this girl and... well it started out good, but now there’s all this pressure...”

“She older?” Ryan asks.

Michael takes a drink, no longer surprised that Ryan is still able to read him like a book. “A little,” he nods. “She was Chief Resident on one of my rotations. We didn’t date then, though,” he adds hurriedly.

“I’m not judging,” Ryan holds his hands up. “But she’s trying to move things along and you’re not ready?”

“I’m just...” Michael sighs again. “I’m just not sure. Like... how do you know when you know?”

Ryan smiles wryly. “Not sure I’m the one to ask, really.” He pauses, apparently thinking. “But... no, that’s not the right thing to say...” he trails off.

“Oh don’t start being coy now,” Michael challenges, looking Ryan in the eye again. “What’s the point of asking someone who doesn’t know the situation if they’re not going to be honest?”

“Well... okay,” Ryan steels himself. “Maybe the problem isn’t her specifically.”

“So it’s me?” Michael assumes.

“Sort of,” Ryan hints.

“I don’t get it,” Michael replies. “Just hit me, Ry.”

“Mike... I think I know you pretty well,” Ryan says slowly. “And I’ve known you for a while. When I think about you and when you’ve looked genuinely happy... it’s never been when there’s a girl in the picture.”

“You think I should just be by myself forever?” Michael asks.

Ryan shakes his head. “I think you can make it work. You’re just barking up the wrong tree.”

Michael frowns, still trying to figure out what Ryan’s talking about. Ryan tilts his head and seems to try approaching from another angle. “When I first met you, it wasn’t necessarily girls you were going for,” Ryan reminds him. “And that’s what I’m talking about when I say I’ve seen you look happier.”

“You think I’m kidding myself, is that it?” Michael asks defensively.

“Not necessarily,” Ryan’s tone softens. “Mike, if you’re genuinely attracted to this girl and think it’s got a future, then you need to figure out what’ll make it work between the two of you. I’m just pointing out a pattern I’ve noticed. If guys aren’t a thing for you then... that’s fair enough. But, as your friend, I’d just like to reassure you that it’s okay to go there. And that you should figure out what you really want and make sure you get it.”

Ryan stands up and grabs his jacket from the back of his chair. “I have to go and check in with my boss, there are some people he wants me to meet. You free tomorrow? We could go and see if the city’s what we remember.”

Michael glances down at the bar and nods. Ryan squeezes his shoulder. “I’m not trying to give you a hard time. And if you don’t want to talk about it tomorrow, I won’t mention it,” Ryan promises. “You’re my friend, and I want you to be happy.”

“I get it,” Michael says quietly.

“Alright,” Ryan puts his jacket on and finishes his drink. “I’ll stop by your poster tomorrow and be nice. Then we can sort something out for tomorrow night?”

“Sounds good,” Michael agrees. “Hope your boss doesn’t keep you too late.”

“I’ll text you if I need an escape route,” Ryan smiles, winking as he starts to head off through the bar.

*

Ryan doesn’t text Michael, but he does stop by at his poster as promised. Michael’s boss is also there, and after surveying the poster thoughtfully for a couple of minutes, Ryan makes a slight show of asking a tough question. Michael shoots him an ungrateful look behind his boss’s back, but manages to come up with a half-decent answer, which unfortunately draws his boss into the conversation and results in the experience being far less fun than his normal exchanges with Ryan.

Thankfully, Michael’s boss is sidetracked soon enough and disappears into the crowd. Michael scowls at Ryan once his boss has gone and Ryan responds with a laugh. “Don’t tell me that isn’t the best chance you’ve had to show off all day,” he grins.

Michael pouts. “Well... yeah, it was. But dude,” Michael complains, “way to show me up!”

“I didn’t!” Ryan protests. “You handled it fine.”

“You owe me a drink,” Michael grumbles.

“How about dinner?” Ryan offers. 

“Yeah, okay,” Michael agrees, still sulking.

“Way to make a guy feel wanted, MP,” Ryan pulls a hurt face. “Will you feel better about it if we go to that sushi place you love?”

Michael sighs. “I guess so.”

“You always this difficult to talk into dates?” Ryan jokes. “Maybe that explains something.”

Michael wants to respond to Ryan’s dig but another delegate is peering at his poster and Ryan starts to back away. “I’ll meet you there at seven thirty,” Ryan says as he backs away, leaving Michael to answer the other delegate’s questions.

*

When Michael arrives at the restaurant, Ryan’s already seated. “I should’ve known,” Ryan smiles ruefully as Michael sits down, “that the thing about you which will never change is Phelps time.”

“I can be on time for stuff!” Michael protests.

Ryan laughs. “Sure!” He grins at Michael playfully, “It’s a good job I’m not easily offended.”

They order soon after and Ryan picks back up on their conversation from earlier. “I still think you did a good job today, Mike,” Ryan says earnestly. “And your boss seems like an okay guy.”

“He’s, uh, been really helpful, actually,” Michael admits. He pauses, knowing he’s safe around Ryan but organising his words carefully regardless. “He recognised me, actually. When I went for my interview.”

Ryan’s eyes widen in understanding. “Oh, right,” he swallows, uncertain of how to respond. The bond between Michael and Ryan is strong, but Michael has never offered his Mom’s death readily as a topic of conversation. 

“I think that’s just part of why he’s been good to me,” Michael adds. “Like... he has commented positively on my work, too. But I know it helped a little, like he knew I was motivated towards his department.”

Ryan nods. “Sure. He’s been there a while then?”

“Oh yeah,” Michael confirms. “He, uh, he was the Attending on duty back then. He’s a little old school, but there’s nothing wrong with that.”

The conversation pauses when their food arrives, and Michael eats contentedly. “I’m so glad you were happy to come here,” he groans through a mouthful of sushi. “I hadn’t realised how much I missed this place.”

Ryan smiles across the table. “No decent sushi on the east coast?”

“Seafood for days,” Michael mumbles through another bite. “But no sushi in Baltimore like this.”

“Poor MP,” Ryan jokes. “So deprived of raw fish.”

“It’s almost enough to make me move back,” Michael admits.

“Only almost?”

“Baltimore’s home,” Michael says easily. “I love it. I have great friends, there are proper seasons.”

“Meaning you get to go and see the Ravens and the Orioles?” Ryan winks knowingly.

“Added bonus,” Michael blushes.

“I’ve actually found myself wondering what winter is like,” Ryan muses.

“You wouldn’t last five minutes!” Michael laughs. “You don’t even know what Fall is really like.”

“Hey, the leaves change colour here!” Ryan protests.

“Yeah, up here! You live in the south now. It’s all palm trees and year-round sunbathing down there,” Michael teases. “But if you’re honestly curious, you can come and visit whenever you want.”

“Call me when it snows,” Ryan pushes. “I’ll be there.”

“Hundred bucks says you don’t leave the house,” Michael jokes. “In fact, I’ll be surprised if you even took your coat off indoors.”

“I’m not that bad,” Ryan snorts.

“Do you even own a coat?” Michael bats back.

Ryan frowns in thought and Michael laughs. “Exactly,” Michael grins.

Through the rest of dinner, they continue to catch up on their individual news: Ryan seems to be gaining a nephew every year, whilst Michael’s slowly spending more time with his own niece and nephew. Ryan’s heard more from their classmates than Michael has, so he relays various pieces of gossip, including the particularly salacious news that one girl they know has returned to the Bay Area to pursue her romantic relationship with a professor.

As the meal winds down, Michael finds himself wanting to continue the evening, and pushes to go on a tour of other places they used to frequent. Surprisingly, Ryan isn’t keen, offering a couple of lame excuses. Eventually, Michael manages to talk him into a drink back at the hotel bar.

“Just one, though,” Ryan insists as he grabs the check before Michael can take it. “I have an early flight and I’m on nights when I get back.”

“Punishment for ducking away to a conference?” Michael laughs.

“Something like that,” Ryan groans.

The bar is quieter this time, with many of the other delegates clearly choosing to do as Michael and Ryan had done and venture further afield with most of their business out of the way. The two friends continue to reminisce easily as they drink.

Ryan heads for the bathroom whilst Michael orders a second round, but it’s only when he’s several gulps into his drink that he notices Ryan’s been gone a while. Michael glances around the bar and spots Ryan over in the direction of the bathrooms talking to a guy. Old habits kick in and Michael turns away, not wanting to ruin Ryan’s chances, but as he takes another pull on his beer, Michael realises something isn’t right.

He carefully turns and takes another look, paying greater attention this time and making an effort to read the body language. The stranger is leaning in to Ryan, appearing keen, but Ryan’s displaying a distinct lack of interest, keeping his body closed and not making any effort to touch the guy. Ryan doesn’t seem distressed, but Michael’s curious as to why he’s not taking the opportunity. The guy isn’t unattractive – though Michael assumes he is either an asshole or an idiot, given that he’s not reading Ryan’s signals – and he’s actually pretty much the type of guy that Ryan usually goes for: a little taller than himself, slim, dark haired...

And Michael realises that he’s sick of seeing this; whether Ryan’s into it or not, Michael doesn’t want to watch him be flirted with, be claimed by someone else. He gets up and crosses the room without a plan other than for Ryan to end up with him for a change, hoping that the right thing happens when he gets there.

Ryan sees him coming, flashing a relieved look and opening his mouth to speak. Michael cuts in first, pasting on a possessive look.

“I was wondering where you’d gotten to!” Michael smiles at Ryan, stepping into his space and placing a hand on his waist, pulling Ryan against him. He ignores the brief look of confusion that crosses Ryan’s features and turns to force a smile at the stranger instead. “Thanks for entertaining my boyfriend while I was on the phone,” Michael purrs at the other man, placing his free hand around Ryan’s chest as he speaks.

The statement has the desired effect and the stranger backs away, disappearing quickly. With his mission of diverting the stranger accomplished, Michael moves on to phase two of his hastily constructed and, if he’s honest, still-forming plan: claim Ryan for real. He holds on to his friend’s body, even though they both know that the guy who’d been making a move has gone and is no longer looking in their direction. Michael wants Ryan to understand that this move wasn’t a fake out. To clarify his point, Michael squares up to Ryan without letting go. He pushes his friend up against the wall and kisses him soundly.

Ryan stiffens next to him, and Michael knows that he understands, that he’s aware this isn’t about playing out a scene anymore. But something’s wrong. He pulls away, searching Ryan’s gaze for whatever’s holding him back.

“I didn’t mean...” Ryan tries to explain, but Michael catches up and cuts in.

“I know,” Michael murmurs. “And I’m not happiest with guys rather than girls.”

Michael almost regrets the statement when Ryan can’t decide whether to be confused or offended in response to it. He quickly cups Ryan’s face with his hand, holding the other man in place as he speaks again. “I’m happiest with you.”

In their years of friendship, it’s the most honest either of them has ever been with the other, and for some reason it’s the end of a discussion as well as the beginning. And it seems to be all Ryan needs, as he dives in for another kiss, claiming Michael hungrily. Michael responds quickly, completely forgetting himself as he pins Ryan against the wall with this hips and starts to attack the other man’s pants.

Ryan grabs Michael’s hands and shakes his head, laughing into the kiss. “Whoa, Mike,” Ryan pants, wriggling away a little. “Can we move this along to the bathroom at least?”

Michael blushes, glancing around to see if anyone might be watching. When he realises that, although they’re still very much in public, nobody in the crowded room is staring at them, he tugs on Ryan’s hand, leading him out of the bar and across the lobby. Michael tries to make a dash for an elevator which is about to fill up, but Ryan holds him back. As the doors close in front of them, Ryan jerks his head to the next one and Michael quickly follows, pressing the button for his floor.

They get the elevator to themselves, allowing the kissing to resume. Ryan pins Michael to the wall this time, balling his fists in Mike’s shirt and pushing their bodies together, tongues working quickly. Michael isn’t sure how he notices that they’ve come to a stop and the doors have opened, but he gets Ryan’s attention by bullying him out of the doors. Michael takes Ryan’s hand again, half-running down the corridor to his room. He fishes his key out of his pocket and fumbles with it, swiping it several times without success. Ryan doesn’t seem to care, kissing and licking at Michael’s neck and rubbing his hands up under Michael’s shirt, failing to help them gain access to the room.

Michael growls in frustration and pulls away to stare at the number on the door, checking they’re at the right one. Ryan snatches the card from Michael’s hand, turns it around and slides it through the lock, opening the door on the first try. He pulls Michael inside, unbuttoning the other man’s shirt as they go, “Off,” Ryan insists, bunching Mike’s clothes up and moving quickly to undo his belt.

Michael does as he’s told, discarding his shirt and t-shirt as they progress through his room to the bed. He drops his jeans and toes off his shoes as he pulls Ryan’s sweater over his head. Michael falls back onto the bed, tugging Ryan down on top of him and then it all happens very quickly. Ryan’s hand is in Michael’s underwear and Michael’s legs are tangled with Ryan’s. Panting kisses are dotted across Michael’s upper body as they rut against each other and he forgets about holding back, overcome by the fact that his former roommate and sometime best friend is on top of him, stroking his dick in a way that he’s not sure it ever has been.

Ryan punctuates Michael’s shuddered orgasm with a hoarse, “Shit,” and a sharp laugh, which Michael tries to remember to punch him for when he regains use of his limbs. But it’s not going to happen anytime soon, because Ryan’s apparently lost the ability to hold himself up and collapses on top of Michael, gasping for breath.

Michael can’t see Ryan’s face and lies staring awkwardly at the ceiling, not wanting to be the one to speak first. With the rush of hormones subsiding, he finds himself wondering why they bothered, what made him shift gears so quickly and jump from years of friendship to a quick fumble via an admittedly hot kiss. He fights the urge to fall asleep, helped by the fact that he can’t get comfortable beneath Ryan’s slumped body.

Eventually Ryan summons the energy to move, scrubbing a hand over his face and shaking his head. “Dude,” Ryan’s voice is still a little hoarse. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know how much you used to hear but... fuck, it’s a long time since I’ve been that bad.”

Michael pulls his gaze from the ceiling to Ryan’s face and is instantly disarmed by the other man’s twinkling eyes and wry smile. He blinks, trying to figure out what to say in response, but is again thrown off by Ryan, who rubs his arm affectionately. “Will you give me another chance?” Ryan asks.

Michael swallows, taking the sight of Ryan’s body in properly for the first time that evening, reminding himself that it’s far from the first time he’s admired Ryan, and nods. “Yeah,” Michael confirms with another nod, mirroring Ryan’s gesture and running his hand over the other man’s forearm, savouring the caress.

Ryan shifts again, wincing as he feels something he doesn’t like and tilts his head towards the bathroom. “Let’s start in there,” he suggests, sliding off the bed, pulling Michael up and leading the way.

*

A bit of co-operation is all it takes for Michael and Ryan to get things oh so right on the second try, which leads to them having a lot of sex in a short space of time. Michael’s quietly impressed that he still has it in him to maintain that sort of pace, ignoring the part of him which knows that he’ll pass out on the plane home and probably still manage a very solid night of sleep once he arrives back in Baltimore.

There are lots of things Michael thinks about as Ryan sleeps beside him: whether or not this means he’s cheated, given that things were more off than on with his supposed-girlfriend when he left town; whether he and Ryan moved too quickly; what this means for their now-sporadic friendship, what will happen when the morning comes and they both have to leave. He wants to know what Ryan’s thinking, but he’s scared to wake him up and ask. Although talking was a huge part of their friendship when they lived together, it mostly came from Ryan easing things out of Michael, who’s never been very good at articulating himself. Michael also worries that Ryan’s thoughts might differ greatly from his own, and he’s not sure how he’d handle that.

As he thinks, Ryan stirs beside him, and Michael wonders if the ticking of his brain woke his friend up. Ryan slides closer, tightening his arms around Michael’s waist and reaching up for a kiss. Michael cards his hand through Ryan’s hair as their lips meet, taking reassurance from the fact that Ryan still wants to kiss him. And do other things, judging by the fact that his dick is stiffening against Michael’s thigh.

Ryan pulls back with a smile, shifting his weight so that he can stroke Michael’s jaw. “How long have you been awake?” he asks quietly.

“I, uh, didn’t really sleep at all,” Michael admits.

“You should’ve woken me up,” Ryan tells him, running his fingers down Michael’s neck and onto his chest. “I’d have helped you out with that.”

“You crashed out,” Michael points out. “Seemed like you’d had enough for one night,” he jokes.

Ryan shakes his head, “Of you? No way.” He demonstrates his point by pressing his dick against Michael’s leg, moving in just the right way to get Michael’s own dick interested. “Phew,” Ryan says with a smile, “I was worried for a minute that you were lying awake trying to figure out your escape plan.”

“We’re in my room,” Michael reminds him. “I could’ve just told you to leave.”

Ryan laughs. “Except we both know that’s not your style. I’d have taken the hint if you and your running kit were gone when I woke up though,” he grins.

Michael rolls his eyes. “I’ll be sure to remember that.”

Ryan raises an eyebrow. “Does that mean this isn’t a one off?”

Michael swallows, letting the reality of the fact that they’re now going to have this conversation sink in. “Did you, uh, want it to be?” he chooses to ask.

Ryan sits up, thoughts of starting something abandoned. He watches Michael for a minute, and Michael suddenly thinks that this could be a terrible idea, given that he’s been thinking about all of this for a couple of hours, whereas Ryan’s had only moments to gather his thoughts.

“If you’d asked me last night,” Ryan says carefully, “I’d have told you that I’ve wanted something to happen between us since day one.”

Michael’s pulse quickens and his ears ring a little. He wishes they’d stuck with the foreplay rather than switching to conversation, but he can’t go back now. “And now?” he prompts, rather than butting in.

“Now...” Ryan continues haltingly, “Now, I realise I didn’t want just something.”

Michael sits up too, pulling the sheet towards him. “So this was a mistake?”

“Mike,” Ryan frowns, reaching out to squeeze Michael’s thigh, trying to bring him back to where they’d been. “No.”

Michael pushes Ryan’s hand away and scrambles out of bed. He scoops Ryan’s pants up off the floor, holding them out to him. “It’s okay, you don’t have to be nice about it,” Michael tells him, refusing to make eye contact. “It’s... I mean... It’ll be okay. It’s not like we have to see each other anymore.”

“Hey, that’s not what I meant,” Ryan protests, taking his pants and discarding them again. “Listen to me, you didn’t let me finish.”

Michael shakes his head, picking Ryan’s shirt up this time and thrusting it at him. “You don’t need to finish, I get it. I was stupid to think that this would be anything other than a hookup,” Michael insists. “We both have flights to catch.”

“Yours isn’t until...”

“I know when it fucking is!” Michael raises his voice. He stalks towards the bathroom, trying not to get upset about something he knew was coming. “I’m taking a shower, please just go.”

Michael locks himself in the bathroom, leaving a stunned Ryan sitting on the bed. He turns the shower on full blast, and before the water has even heated up he hears the bedroom door open and click closed signalling Ryan’s departure.


End file.
